


tomorrow, today

by fangirlandiknowit



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, also what has my life come to i have a big exam tomorrow fml, minor kenhina, minor ushioi, nora this is all your fault, suga is so very gay, third year kags is impressive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:19:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7044436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlandiknowit/pseuds/fangirlandiknowit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is just something about third year Kageyama that has Suga squirming in his spectator's seat during the final game at Nationals... okay there are several somethings but Suga can only hope he's not too obvious about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maybe tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stammi_vicinora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stammi_vicinora/gifts).



> This is for Nora as usual bc she's an enabler and keeps dragging me into Haikyuu!! hell. Meh who needs to study anyway!! At least by writing this I did something productive!
> 
> In other words she's also forcing me to write a second chapter sometime after this week lol. 
> 
> Hope you like it though!

Suga breathes in the excitement in the air, leaning against the railing up on the spectator’s level. Two seats are already secured right behind him, and he taps his fingers against the cool metal in quick little twitches.

“It should only be a minute or so,” Daichi says by his side, amusement evident in his voice as he leans on his forearms to peer down at the court.

“I just want to make sure they see us before they start,” Suga defends his anxiousness with, worrying his lip between teeth as his tapping continues.

“They already know,” Daichi mumbles, voice low as if he knows it won’t do a thing to Suga’s state of mind.

As right as he is about that, Suga still wants to be seen. Call it a selfish desire, but in this stadium filled to the brim with all the teams who already lost, among friends and family members and volleyball fans, he wants to see his former kouhai look up at him and be able to pretend that his cheering for them is reassuring, somehow.

The loudspeakers come to life, a crackling noise followed by the deep voice of the tournament host. He remembers two years ago, sitting on the bleachers opposite of where he is now. There’s the same kind of buzz in his veins, more prominent now that Karasuno is finally, _finally_ in the last round of nationals.

“Ah look, there’s Yachi.” Daichi nudges him and Suga follows his line of vision to the blonde girl carrying equipment towards Karasuno’s side.

She looks a lot more confident now than last time Suga saw her, barely holding back tears at the graduation party for the third years which feels like so long ago now.

“They grow up so fast,” Suga groans, nails digging into the railing and breath hitching when players start milling out through a door leading back to the locker rooms.

It’s the opposing team, tall and exuding such focus that Suga can feel the little hairs on his arms stand on end. Some of these players will be starting university shortly, and Suga makes a wry smile at the thought of any of them joining the same team as him.

Since his university is known for anything _except_ their volleyball team he doubts it, though he’s happy all the same. It’s nice enough to be able to continue with his hobby, even if they lose badly most of the time.

“Hang on,” Daichi interrupts his thought process with, “isn’t that Oikawa?”

He points towards the stairs by the middle of the bleachers, and sure enough, Oikawa’s fluffy hair is followed by the rest of him as he argues animatedly with someone following him.

“Ushijima, too,” Suga adds softly as the imposing man comes into view, but he can’t help the little grin spreading across his face. “Let’s call them over.”

Daichi barely has time to give him a horrified look before Suga starts waving, able to pinpoint the exact moment Oikawa spots them by the stiffening of his shoulders. He’s half convinced Oikawa will turn and go the other way, but it seems Ushijima stops him. Honestly, he wishes he was close enough to make out the look on Oikawa’s face because the rude gesture he makes towards Ushijima is both hilarious and slightly offending.

“Sawamura-san, Sugawara-san,” Ushijima greets them politely with an accompanying nod of his head.

“Tsk,” is all Oikawa says until Ushijima squeezes his waist and clears his throat. It earns him a glare and a huff, but Suga is more interested in the familiar way they touch. “Mr. Refreshing, former Karasuno captain, I should have known you’d be here.”

“Here to give Kageyama your support?” Daichi teases, and Suga has to hide a smile behind a hand when a look of pure mortification passes over Oikawa’s face.

“We’ve been here all weekend to scope out potential new teammates,” Oikawa replies stiffly, then smiles nastily at them. “Something I suppose the two of you don’t need to bother with.”

“Oikawa, don’t be rude,” Ushijima murmurs, squeezing his waist again before letting his hand drop.

Suga stores the observation away for later, when he can laugh at the unexpected development unhindered. He can clearly remember the first time his new team was unfortunate enough to go up against the combined power of Ushijima’s spikes and Oikawa’s killer serves, and how they bickered so much off and on court that they lost points simply because of that.

“Worried Kageyama will join you?” Daichi asks, because he’s never been afraid of provoking others and Suga holds his breath to contain his laughter.

“I-! You-!” Oikawa splutters, knuckles whitening from clenched fists.

They’re saved from the rest of his sentence as Karasuno filters in, cheers erupting throughout the stadium. Suga is only faintly bitter at how popular his former school has become, knowing the reason they’re in the finals now is due to attracting great players the past two years, and also knowing he barely had a hand in the success that turned things around.

Still, he couldn’t be more proud of his kouhai, and leaning as far as he can over the railing he calls out to them.

“Kageyama! Hinata! Good luck!”

He’s about to add in a cheer for Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, too, when Kageyama’s head snaps towards them and he stops to break free from the rest of the team.

Even at this distance, Suga feels a little faint. He’s been following Karasuno’s progress as best he could, watching the games shown on TV, peering over articles featuring high school volleyball more intently than is probably healthy, but nothing has really prepared him for the sight that is third year Kageyama in the flesh.

Hinata bounces over to Kageyama’s side, earning himself a rough push that Suga barely notices as Kageyama makes an apologetic gesture towards Ukai before jogging over to them.

“Yahoo, Tobio-chan!” Oikawa greets him with when he’s close enough, leaning over the railing as well. “I’m looking forward to crushing your university team~”

“Suga-san, Daichi-san,” Kageyama says, almost too quiet to be heard.

Oikawa hears him perfectly it seems – “Waka-chan did you hear that?! How rude! If he came up here I’d smack him!” – but all Suga can think is _whoa_.

“Thank you for coming,” Kageyama continues, all mature and reliable, and when did _that_ happen?

“Good luck,” Daichi tells him, and Suga knows he should chime in but somehow his throat doesn’t seem to be working because the only sounds escaping him are choked gurgles.

Which is _extremely_ embarrassing, but there isn’t much he can do about it right now because Kageyama’s dark gaze drags over his face a little slower than necessary before sliding towards Oikawa.

“I’ve seen your games,” he tells Oikawa, a furrow to his brow that shows his competitive side, and it’s so attractive that Suga has to pinch himself because this is _ridiculous_. “My jump serve is probably better than yours now.”

As if he hadn’t just made Oikawa spontaneously combust, Kageyama turns back to Suga and Daichi.

“We’ve got an extra day here in Tokyo tomorrow,” he says politely, then pauses to weigh on his heels hesitantly. It’s almost a relief, to know that while Kageyama has changed, there are still parts of the awkward first year he used to be left in him. “If you’re not busy…”

“Of course!” Suga lets out in a rush, wanting to kick himself for the burning he can feel in his cheeks. “We’d love to show you around.”

There’s a twitch to Kageyama’s lips, like an attempt to smile, but then he bows quickly and runs over to where his team is already warming up. Oikawa is still making strangled noises off to the side, but Suga is much too occupied with staring after Kageyama to care about it.

“You’ve got a lecture tomorrow,” Daichi points out, coughing meaningfully when Suga startles.

“Not a very important one,” Suga argues weakly, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. Maybe he should sit down now, just to make sure his knees stop quivering.

“Well,” Daichi coughs again, “just making sure you remember.”

“Oh, shut it,” Suga grumbles, his whole face most likely bright red by now. “Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

He promptly sits down, gnawing on his thumb as his knee bobs up and down. Suddenly, coming to watch the game seems like a terrible idea. Maybe he should go, just up and leave and pretend this exchange never happened because oh god, he is _so gay_.

“The stats say he’s close to 190 now,” Daichi informs him, reading from the pamphlet they’d received upon arrival, which is incredibly unnecessary because Suga already _knows_.

“ _Don’t_ ,” he pleads, closing his eyes and breathing in deep, only opening them to give a half-hearted wave when Ushijima announces that he and Oikawa are off to find seats.

Despite his inner turmoil he pays immediate attention once the match start is announced, sitting on pins and needles throughout the whole first set. Kageyama plays beautifully, of course, in perfect sync with his team members. Hinata, living up to the title of ace, earns the most scores with his quick spikes, high-fiving Kageyama after each one. It’s enough to assure them the first set, and Suga wishes _so badly_ that he was down there, cheering with them.

It must have shown on his face because Daichi pats his shoulder, a proud smile lingering around his mouth.

“You can celebrate with them tomorrow,” he says, but Suga only sighs deeply.

Tomorrow might be a bad idea, after all. It’s bad enough that Kageyama glances up towards him when the second set starts, and Suga feels obliged to wave and smile at him even though all he wants to do is lock himself inside a bathroom and slap some sense into himself.

They lose the second set, and Suga’s mind instantly provides him with various ideas on how to comfort Kageyama if they were to lose the game. It gets to the point where he digs his nails into his palms, face tense as he tries his best not to squirm in his seat. Daichi doesn’t seem to notice this at least, and Suga is thankful for small mercies. He sends enough knowing glances Suga’s way as it is, whenever Kageyama makes a particularly impressive toss or when he shouts orders at the rest of the team.

Making Kageyama captain had to be _illegal_. Even so he does it so well, keeping his team well put together as the third set starts. There’s no fumbling, no hesitation in his eyes as he sends toss after toss at his spikers, not that there ever _were_. Suga would be jealous if he hadn’t long since accepted the fact that Kageyama is a genius, at a level he couldn’t reach no matter how hard he trained.

Instead he has to focus so as not to drool when Kageyama lifts his shirt to wipe sweat off his brow, an intense look on his face as he drops it to prepare for the opposing team’s serve.

“Just two rotations and it’s Kageyama’s serve,” Daichi mutters to himself, chin resting on his clasped hands as he leans forward unconsciously, tensing up at the smack of a palm when the ball gets served over the net only to relax again as one of the second years pull off a perfect receive.

Suga bites his lip. Kageyama has served a few times already in the previous sets, but not enough that he could properly show Oikawa he wasn’t all words. Of course he should be focused on winning, but knowing Kageyama, Suga is certain that he’s longing for a chance to properly show off.

The chance arrives five minutes later, after a series of quick points to either side. They’re almost even now, not far from match point, the whole stadium collectively holding their breaths as Kageyama spins the ball in his hands and bounces it twice against the floor.

“Go for it, Kageyama!” Hinata shouts, an eager grin on his face.

Suga can just barely make out Tsukishima’s eye roll and he smiles, their antics still familiar despite the years since they played together.

“Here we go,” Daichi whispers, and Suga grips the edge of his seat desperately as Kageyama throws the ball up and jumps after it.

He can tell it’s perfect before it even soars across the net. There’s a loud curse from somewhere behind him that sounds suspiciously like Oikawa just before the ball hits the floor with a definite smack, and Suga can’t help the excited noise that escapes him.

The next serve goes much the same way, the third bouncing off a player’s forearm. There’s more force behind them this time, as if Kageyama doesn’t need to hold back anymore. It must be exhausting to pull them off, one after the other, but it’s certainly discouraging for their opponents. He wonders if Oikawa feels proud, being the inspiration for such sheer power, but when he catches sight of him during the few seconds it takes Kageyama to get the ball back he can tell that there’s mainly petulant annoyance on the other setter’s face.

Oh well, it’s not like Suga looks forward to coming up against Kageyama soon, either.

Five successful serves in total and Karasuno is at match point, the game pretty much in the bag even if the other school holds out for another five minutes. The resulting cheer when the winner is declared is deafening, and Suga stands up like everyone else to shout words of congratulations. He feels a mix of pride, awe, and intimidation; mostly he’s simply relieved that they won so he won’t have to worry about tomorrow.

Maybe tomorrow Kageyama will tell him which university he’ll be attending, and Suga can make up wishful plans in his head to see him now and then.

Maybe tomorrow he’ll find out that Kageyama is already seeing someone, and walk home heartbroken from something that was barely even there in the first place.

 _Maybe,_ Suga thinks to himself, _maybe he still remembers confessing to me before I left._


	2. Today for sure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what happened but the second chapter somehow became a 10K+ monster... I hope you like this shameless fluff hehe~ A few other pairings are mentioned in this chapter:3
> 
> (`･ｖ´･ )ﾉ＝☆・゜:*:

Kageyama’s body thrums with excitement. It stays long after they leave the court, tears of joy all dried out and backs sore from too many congratulating slaps. His knee keeps bouncing under the restaurant table, fingers fumbling from not just fatigue as he eats. When his phone buzzes in his pocket – put there with deliberate care as opposed to its usual spot in his bag – his fingers twitch badly enough that he drops his chopsticks with a clattering noise.

He swallows, ignoring the difficulty of the feat, and tries his best not to hope too much as he reaches for it.

 

**From: Suga-san**

_Congratulations on the win! Please celebrate responsibly_ ( *• ̀ω•́ )b _Text me the details on tomorrow later!_

 

Cradling the phone in both hands he reads the text over and over again, feeling heat in his cheeks as he remembers the weight of Suga’s stare on him during the match. Even with all his senses tuned onto the game he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from straying now and then, seeking out his former senpai on the bleachers, each time rewarded with a surge of adrenaline that sent his heart skyrocketing.

“Who was it?” Hinata asks, startling him enough to smack his phone protectively against his chest.

“None of your business,” he replies stiffly, eyebrows pinched and phone firmly in place as Hinata starts poking at him with a devious grin.

“Ooh, was it your crush?” Hinata may be his best friend, but sometimes Kageyama can’t help but hate him just a little. “Did you manage to invite him for tomorrow, then?”

Kageyama grits his teeth, glancing around to make sure no one else is paying attention to the reddening of his ears. He truly regrets talking to Hinata about his feelings for Suga because ever since then his volleyball partner has referred to him exclusively as _your crush_ and all it does is remind him of how futile the whole situation is.

“Daichi-san is coming too,” he admits in a mumble, then straightens up from the slouch he’s fallen into and pokes Hinata back. “Besides, you invited Nishinoya and Tanaka, so almost everyone is coming.”

Hinata pouts, most likely annoyed that his teasing didn’t work as expected.

“Well,” he huffs, “Kenma is bringing Kuroo I think, so there’ll be lots of people! You can totally sneak off to confess!”

Face blanching, Kageyama shoves Hinata violently enough that he almost topples over the poor first-year sitting on his other side.

“I’m not-!” he exclaims, then lowers his voice with a seething glare at the smug-faced little jerk. “I’m not _confessing_.”

Hinata blinks at him for a moment, then his face morphs into that scary look that Kageyama has come to associate with things like _come on, it doesn’t even look that dangerous, Bakageyama_ , too often followed by _oops I guess it wasn’t such a good idea after all_.

“Hinata, don’t-“ he starts, but is easily interrupted by his so called friend hopping to his feet and clapping his hands with far too much enthusiasm for something Kageyama is sure to be all levels of awful.

“Listen up!” he shouts, his naturally loud voice having no problem carrying over the chatter around the table. “Our captain may have led us all to victory today, but tomorrow he faces his toughest challenge yet!”

Heart sinking, Kageyama slides lower in his seat. He can feel his phone warm in his hand and clutches it like a lifeline, as if the text he just received isn’t the very cause for his current predicament.

“Today was easy though!” Yamaguchi jokes, laughter and easy grins spilling forth between them because they all know it was anything but _easy_ , and without Kageyama as their pillar they might not have made it that far at all.

It causes another sort of flush across Kageyama’s face, one that has more to do with happy pride at his teammate’s appreciative glances than his initial embarrassment.

“Of course it was!” Hinata agrees, still too loud for a restaurant setting. “But tomorrow, Kageyama can finally confess to his crush like a real man, and we should all show him our support!”

Like a- _what the hell,_ Kageyama wants to ask but his voice fails him and only a sort-of wheeze escapes his throat.

“Good luck, captain!” is cheered for him around the table with various levels of enthusiasm, some more mocking than others.

“Eeh, I thought there were only a few of the former Karasuno members joining us tomorrow,” Takeda-sensei muses, loud enough to reach Kageyama’s still-red ears and apparently funny enough for Ukai to burst out laughing.

“Ew,” is all Tsukishima says, sitting next to Kageyama at the end of the table, fixating his glasses to better send him a condescending look.

“You can do it, Kageyama!” Yamaguchi seems to be the only one with some genuine thought behind his words, face earnest as always as he leans across the table. “I’m sure Suga-san has thought about it properly!”

Kageyama doesn’t have many regrets about coming to Karasuno, about becoming a team player and ultimately a captain. What he does regret, _heavily_ , is the day his brain ceased to function long enough that he confessed to Suga in a spot where the remaining three first years could clearly hear everything.

“Yeah!” Hinata shouts, still standing proudly with his hands at his hips. “And you’re super tall now so he can’t say no!”

The other members have returned to their own conversations, losing interest in Kageyama’s struggles in favor of retelling the game for the umpteenth time. Kageyama isn’t really concerned about them finding out since the worst ones already know. Somewhere along the line he had convinced himself that they’d forgotten, that two long years had erased the most embarrassing moment of his life.

Apparently, he has no such luck.

“So, what’s your plan?” Hinata asks, quieter this time as he sits down again, scooting closer as if just now deciding to be secretive instead.

“There’s no plan, you dumb idiot!” he hisses through clenched teeth, shoving his phone deep into his pocket again. “And if you bring it up tomorrow I’ll-“

He’s interrupted by another vibration against his leg, so unexpected that the half-made threat dies on his tongue along with all rational thought.

“You _have_ to have a plan, Bakageyama!” Hinata insists, but Kageyama only listens with half an ear as he carefully extracts the phone to peek at it underneath the table. “My plan to woo Kenma was _great_ , maybe I’ll let you borrow it.”

“Mhm,” he hums, heart beating erratically in his throat as he opens up the message.

 

**From: Suga-san**

_Tomorrow is going to be cold, I hope you brought enough warm clothes!_

 

“Your plan was awful!” Yamaguchi giggles at Hinata, but at this point Kageyama has stopped listening completely.

His breath is caught in his throat, that same electric energy coursing through his body, pooling hotly inside his stomach. It’s such an innocent text, and yet Kageyama has to fend off thoughts of sharing a scarf, of warming cold hands underneath jackets and huddling close together.

There’s a mild sense of panic settling in his bones, spreading from inside his body to tingle at his fingertips as he tries to think of a response that isn’t too hopeful.  

“Kageyama, you’re not listening!” Hinata whines at him, waving his hand in front of his face in an attempt to gain his attention.

“Go away,” he mutters, shoving the hand away with an elbow and hunching lower over his phone.

He ignores Tsukishima’s long-suffering sigh and Yamaguchi’s continued giggles, mind racing a mile a minute as he contemplates what to write.

 

**To: Suga-san**

_I’ll let you know once I find out. Thank you, we’re having dinner now._

 

Hesitating, he bites at his lips with fingers hovering over the screen. His chest feels warm, an uncomfortable squeeze tightening his lungs. There’s so much he wants to write, wants to say, _do you remember what you promised me?_

Drawing in a lungful of air he adds a sentence and presses send before he can think too hard on it, the rush of adrenaline causing him to feel lightheaded and weak, mouth dry and palms sweating.

 

_I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow._

★☆★☆

Suga has half a mind pretending he’s too sick to go, or that his lecture is suddenly extremely important. Unfortunately he shares an apartment with Daichi, and even more unfortunately he’s been subject to Suga’s overanalyzing of Kageyama’s text all night and morning until he begged Suga to stop his nonsense.

It’s at the point where Suga finds himself all but dragged towards their meeting spot, Daichi muttering curses under his breath that Suga is fairly certain contains his name more often than not.

“It’s just,” he says, hurrying to keep up with Daichi’s pace. “It’s just that, you know, it’s been two _years_ already.”

“Yes, you’ve said that.”

“And he’s so _popular_ now.”

“I know, you’ve told me that too.”

Suga flexes his fingers nervously, the wind cold against his too-hot cheeks.

“What if we don’t have anything to talk about?”

Daichi sighs, his shoulders rolling with the movement, then glances back at Suga with disapproving eyes.

“Does Kageyama even care about anything besides volleyball? You can get to know each other better later. He’s moving here even if your first date goes badly.”

Against his will, Suga blushes. He pretends to himself that it’s just the cold, shoving his hands down the pockets of his coat and burying his nose underneath his thick scarf.

“It’s not a date,” he mutters unhappily, thoughts flitting back to the typed words he’d stared at for far too long this morning before getting out of bed.

“You think too much,” Daichi berates him.

“I think _too little,_ ” Suga counters with, but it’s a distracted comeback; Kageyama’s perfect form while serving at the forefront of his mind. “He turned eighteen like a month ago!”

“Hm, that’s right, his birthday is in December isn’t it?” Daichi muses, cringing when Suga buries his face in his hands and groans.

“He _just_ turned eighteen, Daichi I can’t do this! I’m a bad person!”

Daichi sighs, both of them coming to a halt on the sidewalk. Suga is now, more than ever, convinced that this is a bad idea. He might have told Kageyama that he’d consider it properly when he was older, but this is still way too early!

“Suga,” Daichi starts, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder and shaking him a little. “It’s just a two year difference.”

“Two and a _half_ , _”_ Suga sniffs, still hiding his face. “And I’m supposed to be his responsible senpai!”

Silence stretches out between them for a moment as Suga tries so very hard not to let his mind linger on all the impure thoughts he’s been having. The worst part is probably the memories of yesterday, of Kageyama standing steady on the court, power in his movements and determination in his eyes.

“Suga,” Daichi says again, firmer this time. “You’re being utterly ridiculous.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Suga forces his shoulders to relax. He can’t do much about the sullen expression on his face as he lowers his hands, but Daichi shakes him again until his teeth are all but rattling before he manages to push him away.

“Okay!” he relents, holding his arms up defensively. “I admit that I am being utterly ridiculous.”

“Good,” Daichi grunts before he can continue, grabbing a hold of his jacket and starting to drag him forwards for real this time. “You’ve been moping about the whole thing for two years already, I know your soul isn’t as pure as people think but _please_ , Kageyama isn’t going to call the police if you kiss him.”

Suga splutters, mortified but unable to do much more than allow himself to be dragged along the road.

“Why are we still friends?” he wails, both of them knowing it’s an empty complaint.

“I’m doing you a favor,” Daichi sighs, tugging at him when he slows down in protest. “And _you_ will be doing _me_ a favor if you stop second-guessing yourself. You will greet everyone, talk to Kageyama, and if you don’t feel any attraction to him by the end of the day then fine, let it go. But you _will_ talk to him.”

No attraction? Suga wants to laugh, but he knows Daichi will just get mad at him if he does. Instead he continues to suffer from inner turmoil, going through a hundred different scenarios that _shouldn’t_ end with him pressed up against a wall, Kageyama’s hands cupping his face and sliding over bare skin…

He shudders, cursing his overactive imagination and too responsive body. Even though it’s barely five degrees outside he’s sweating, and not only from the pace Daichi forces him to walk at. He _knows_ it’s ridiculous but it’s not like he can help it. He’s been going over this ever since he graduated and moved, and this is the first time he’ll be properly meeting with Kageyama again. Not to mention he didn’t expect it to happen _today_ , he was banking on the just over two months left before Kageyama would start attending university.

“There they are,” Daichi announces as they round a street corner, pointing at a small park across the road where the current Karasuno team is gathered.

“Oh no,” Suga breathes out, quickly straightening up and fiddling with his scarf.

His eyes search for Kageyama without his consent, easily picking him out where he stands off to one side. There’s a lurch in his stomach, a wave of freezing apprehension spreading through his limbs, but Daichi is already moving as the pedestrian light turns green.

Suga can’t help but wonder if his face is just as green, a lump heavy in his throat as he follows on stumbling legs. He’s been over this so many times in his head that it feels surreal when Tanaka spots them, pulling them into the middle of the group standing around Ukai and Takeda-sensei.

“It’s been ages!” Tanaka shouts excitedly, hanging off his shoulders as Suga stammers out a polite greeting towards his former coach and teacher.

“Good to see you!” Ukai tells them, giving their backs friendly slaps as Takeda bows and sends them a huge smile.

“How is Tokyo?” Takeda asks, and Suga gets caught up in conversation while trying at the same time to greet the other team members.

His gaze keeps sliding towards his left where he knows Kageyama is still standing, and the fact that he hasn’t come over to say hi yet is as nerve-wracking as it is a relief. It gives him a much needed moment to steady his nerves, to forcefully relax in order to act natural. Yamaguchi asks him what he thought of the final match, and Suga barely has time to wonder over the lack of excited Hinata before Takeda announces that everyone has arrived and so it’s time to get moving.

Digging his nails into his palms hidden within pockets, Suga is all smiles and polite words as the group shuffles towards the entrance of the park. For all the imaginary scenarios he’s made up in his mind, the current one feels a little… _underwhelming_ , to be honest. Sure, he’d rather not make a fool of himself trying to greet Kageyama with everyone’s eyes on them, but still.

Daichi’s shoulder bumps into his, an arched eyebrow asking silently if he’s okay. He shrugs in reply, opening his mouth to assure him it’s all fine even though he isn’t so sure it _is_.

“Suga-senpai!”

The hiss coming from behind him prevents him from replying however, and a surprised look as he turns reveals none other than a conspicuous-looking Hinata.

“Ah, Hinata?”

“Shhh!” Hinata holds a finger over his mouth, his hair as untamed and ruffled as it had looked yesterday during the game. “We need to follow the plan!”

Bewildered, Suga slows his walking to match the shorter man’s, Daichi hesitating to do the same since Hinata seems intent on ignoring him for now.

“Kageyama is too stupid to come up with a plan on his own so I decided to help him out!” is Hinata’s explanation, the implications of his words enough to send Suga’s heartbeat into overdrive.

“A plan?” he squeaks, clenching his fists tighter and sending an unsure look ahead, where Kageyama is walking next to what looks to be Kuroo and Kenma.  

He hadn’t expected them to be here, and seeing Kageyama with them only adds to his confusion.

“Yeah, don’t worry it’s great!” Hinata tells him in a rush, firing off a blinding grin that lasts the three seconds it takes Kageyama to turn around and spot him.

“ _Hinata_!” Kageyama calls, face twisting in fury as he stalks towards them, a worried glance in Suga’s direction that does a very good job of stealing his breath. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m just helping you out!” Hinata yells back, jumping as he does so their faces are level. “You obviously weren’t getting anywhere on your own!”

“I wasn’t-! I mean, I uh,” Kageyama glances at Suga again, struggling with words. “You’re such a dumbass!” he grits out, knocking Hinata over the head.

There’s something about the familiarity of the scene – though not the circumstances – that has Suga’s throat bubbling with laughter. He quickly hides his mouth behind both hands, eyes wide as he takes in the shape of an older Kageyama properly, for the first time. Seeing him on the court is different from this, when he’s close enough to reach out and touch, face scrunched up in anger and a soft, dark blue winter hat threatening to fall off his head.

“It’s okay,” he finds himself saying, face heating up when Kageyama’s dark eyes hold his. “I don’t mind hearing what this plan is supposed to be.”

He grins, acting braver than he feels as he rubs at his nose. Kageyama looks torn between anger and humiliation, his fist still bearing down on Hinata’s scalp.

“Don’t listen to him,” he chokes out, Hinata taking the opportunity to wriggle out of his grip in order to hide behind Kenma, the latter having joined them when Suga wasn’t paying attention.

“Then get to work!” Hinata shouts, pouting when Kenma tells him to be more considerate.

“Well well well,” Kuroo intervenes, hands on hips and a lopsided grin splitting his cheeks. “From what I’ve heard so far the plan involves leaving the two love crows alone, isn’t that a good idea, huh, Sawamura?”

Surprised, Suga notices Daichi’s face do an interesting mixture of pale and bright red, settling for some sort of reluctant agreement. This could definitely be relevant to Daichi’s strange behavior after the practice match they’d had against Kuroo three months ago, but Suga’s attention snaps back to Kageyama when the younger man is pushed towards him.

“Have fun!” Hinata orders them, making a face at Kenma as he’s being led back towards the group again, and Suga can’t help but feel a little annoyed at the fact that everyone else seems to have it so much easier than him.

Not that Daichi looks very enthusiastic with Kuroo’s arm slung around his neck, but something tells Suga that his friend has been keeping this from him for a reason.

“Suga-san?”

At the sound of Kageyama’s voice he instantly forgets other people’s possible romances, biting the inside of his cheek to stay neutral as he turns towards the other.

“Kageyama-kun,” he greets him back, smiling through his nerves. “We should probably follow the others, I guess?”

Kageyama nods, the movement tilting his hat so that it’s in real danger of falling off, and the whole thing would be ridiculous if Kageyama wasn’t so damn _handsome_ that it only looks endearing.

The ridiculous one is Suga, reaching his hands out before he can think in order to tug it back securely over Kageyama’s ears.

“Your hat was…” he awkwardly explains, waving his hands in vague gestures, heart stuttering against his ribs.

Kageyama’s face is a fire-truck red as he reaches up to check the hat, a mumbled thanks with down-casted eyes the final nail in the coffin because Suga is _screwed_.

“No problem,” he forces out, voice as weak as his lungs, feeling all sorts of pathetic when he realizes that he’s practically _alone_ with _Kageyama_ and this is the point where he should strike up conversation, act like a good senpai, _not_ forget how to breathe simply because Kageyama is _right there_.

Before he manages to panic, he sets his eyes on the path the others have disappeared down, drawing in a lungful of air only to choke on it when Kageyama grabs his wrist.

“Suga-san,” he says again, only a slight pink across the bridge of his nose now. “Thank you for coming.”

It’s the same words as yesterday, but somehow the meaning feels entirely different now that it’s just the two of them. Suga swallows, limbs twitching to step closer, to enter Kageyama’s personal space and drown in his eyes. He keeps his ground however, and Kageyama doesn’t move, only watches him so intently that Suga’s stomach flutters traitorously.

“Of course,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t sound too breathless. _I wanted to see you too_ he doesn’t say, his wrist burning white-hot through his clothes where Kageyama touches him.

Having Kageyama’s eyes on him like this is torture, a burning heat against his cheek as he stares uncertainly towards the bend in the path where it disappears behind trees. He doesn’t exactly want to follow them, but standing here with prickling needles on his skin is worse.

When Kageyama lets go of him it feels like an eternity has passed, and Suga can’t blame the shiver along his spine on the dampness in the air.

“We should go,” Kageyama says, giving Suga a terribly good view of his now broad shoulders as he starts along the path.

Taking an unsteady breath Suga follows, forcing his eyes away from how Kageyama’s dark uniform pants hug his legs indecently snug. This really isn’t good. How is he supposed to last with Kageyama like this? His jaw is so tense it almost aches, the silence between them crippling in the way that they have never really been walking together like this; with a two-year separation to distance them from each other.

He shivers again, glancing up at the sky. The clouds are a darker grey here than over by his apartment, hanging ominously low, and he curses the fact that he didn’t bring an umbrella. Not that anyone else seems to have brought one either, but Suga’s stomach clenches at the thought of their outing being canceled due to the weather.

There’s so much he wants to say that the few hours planned don’t seem like nearly enough time.

In the end he doesn’t say much at all as they catch up with the others, strolling in no particular hurry towards the Emperor’s Palace; it’s the first stop of three on today’s sightseeing list. Suga has seen it all before, forced to struggle with keeping his eyes on the view instead of a certain dark-haired boy. Luckily Kageyama pays proper attention to Takeda-sensei as he reads from a guidebook, Kuroo filling in with little anecdotes here and there that are hardly educational but certainly humorous.

They can’t get very close to the castle, walking by the Sakurada gate first before heading along to the bridges from where they can see it at a distance. As beautiful as it is with the water and partly hidden castle on the hill, skyscrapers behind them in contrast, Suga wishes he had the guts to tell Kageyama he can give him the tour later so they can spend the time alone instead. He has to remind himself that Daichi was right earlier, they have lots of time. There’s no rush other than the rush of blood to Suga’s cheeks when Kageyama’s arm brushes his as they take a few pictures. Hinata, ever so overly helpful, insists on taking a picture of just the two of them with the castle as background.

If Suga’s smile is just a little brighter or his cheeks just a little redder than in the group photos Hinata doesn’t comment on it, merely handing the phone back to Kageyama with a grin and a wink.

The trip from there to Asakusa is definitely torture, Suga thinks. Finding the way and switching from the JR line to the Ginza line isn’t too bad, but the train ride is much too long for the customary silence to feel comfortable. He supposes he should be thankful that they decided on the JR line; while expensive it’s much faster than using the regular subway lines which would have meant even longer suffering for him.

Not that sitting pressed up to Kageyama’s side is _suffering_ precisely, but it’s anything but easy when he’s already guided Kageyama physically through the stations to assure he wouldn’t get lost. It would be so easy to move his hand just a bit to the side, finding one of Kageyama’s to hold reassuringly through the silence.

Suga isn’t so sure he’s capable of being reassuring at the moment, though. Not with the way his palms feel sweaty inside the warmth of trains and stations, not with how his teeth keep finding his lower lip to gnaw on. Kageyama sits stiffly during both rides, hands curled in his lap and eyes thoughtfully directed at the floor. Tanaka and Nishinoya make a fuss on his other side after the switch, only behaving after Daichi uses his captain glare at them. It would feel nostalgic if Suga wasn’t reminded of Kageyama’s current captaincy, of how he had quietly delivered orders and praise during and between plays.

When Suga thinks no one is looking, he studies Kageyama’s profile. He does it in quick glances, gaze sweeping over his features like he can commit them to memory if he traces them enough times. He isn’t beautiful in the glowing way Kiyoko is, nor does he have the effortless prettiness Oikawa exudes. In fact, he has a rather scary expression on his face as he glowers at the floor, eyebrows drawn together and mouth thinned into a line. Suga wishes he could tell what he is thinking of, if his thoughts are dwelling on yesterday’s game or his move to Tokyo, or maybe there are thoughts of _Suga_ swirling around inside his mind.

As soon as he catches his own wishful thinking, Suga averts his eyes and stubbornly focuses them on a poster up near the ceiling. He spends the final five minutes of the ride like this, focusing on keeping his breathing even whenever Kageyama shifts next to him, the heat of his body not quite reaching through their clothes.

It’s a relief to breathe normally again once they exit the station, headed towards Nakamise Avenue. Just outside the gates marking the beginning of the street littered with cute little shops, leading up to the famous temple they’re headed for, Yachi and Kiyoko are waiting for them.

“Hello everyone!” Yachi calls out, waving them closer with a bright smile.

“Ah, sorry, did you wait long?” Takeda-sensei asks, both girls shaking their heads and assuring him they didn’t before mingling with the group.

Suga feels a little embarrassed for forgetting to wonder over Yachi’s absence, a testament to how focused he is on Kageyama. When Kiyoko sidles up to him he can’t help but ask:

“Is there a reason you’re only joining us now?”

Kiyoko gives him a smile, her eyes glittering just slightly as she tucks a strand of hair back underneath her cute winter hat.

“Oh, Hitoka-chan has already seen the castle so we had an early lunch together.”

Suga squints at her, flushing a little when her smile turns impish.

“You know,” she continues sweetly, “since we’ve been dating for a while now.”

Faltering in his step, Suga easily catches the underlying meaning to her words and makes an appropriately sour face.

“Is _everyone_ going to mock me for this or…?” He sends a quick glance Kageyama’s way, thankful that for now he seems occupied with handling a couple of rowdy first-years that Tanaka had fired up. “I _am_ going to ask him. Eventually.”

“Oh,” Kiyoko says, and it’s neither encouraging nor mocking, merely an observation of the facts. “I just thought for sure you would have taken advantage of yesterday’s win.”

Scowling at her, Suga does his best to appear unaffected by her words. Sure, he _thought_ about it, but it had been hopeless to try and get to Kageyama after the game. Today would be a better opportunity if they weren’t so surrounded by team members and passersby.  

“It’s not that easy,” he mumbles, barely acknowledging how Takeda and Ukai try to gather the group together for another guidebook reading.

“You know, Hitoka-chan told me that Kageyama-kun has been fretting over this quite a bit,” Kiyoko continues, ignoring his reply. “It isn’t nice to string him along like this.”

“I-!” Suga stops himself, running a hand through his hair only to tug at the ends. “That’s not what I’ve been doing.”

Kiyoko hums, her eyes drawn towards Kageyama’s form.

“Still, to give him a ridiculous condition like winning Nationals before allowing him to ask you again…”

Gaping, Suga’s brain takes a moment to process her words.

“I didn’t, I mean,” he fumbles for words, blinking stupidly at her. “ _What_?”

“Didn’t you tell him that?”

She looks confused, frowning, and Suga is almost waiting for Nishinoya or Tanaka to attack him over making her pull such a face.

“No!” he insists, racking his brain for the conversation two years ago. “I told him it wouldn’t work since I was moving, and that if he still felt that way when he was older he could ask me again… and I might have said something about how he should focus on taking the team to Nationals instead of on me…”

When Kiyoko raises an eyebrow, Suga buries his face in both hands and groans out loud.

“Did I do something horrible?” he asks, peeking through his fingers to give Kiyoko a pained look.

He just didn’t want Kageyama to be stuck on him when he should focus on more important things!

“I don’t know,” she says with a small shrug. “They did win, didn’t they?”

“I guess…”

She pats his back with a small but encouraging smile, making him feel slightly better about himself again.

“I still think you should clear things up with him as soon as possible,” she adds, turning to listen to the information Takeda is listing off over at the head of the group. “Everyone will be splitting up now, so it shouldn’t be too hard.”

Suga isn’t so sure he agrees with that, but is spared from seeking out Kageyama once Takeda announces that they will all meet up by the temple entrance in half an hour, since he approaches him all on his own.

“Suga-san, could we, um…”

It’s as if the few minutes apart made Suga forget about the impact Kageyama’s presence has on him, because it’s all he can do to meet his eyes while fighting down shivers of anticipation.

“Let’s go look at the shops,” Kageyama manages to say, sounding much angrier than Suga knows him to be.

“Ah,” he lets out, trying desperately to gather his wits about him again. “That sounds great, let’s go.”

Kageyama nods, looking like he wants to say more but doesn’t, instead leading the way towards the nearest shop. They walk around aimlessly for a bit, commenting on the items on display until the worst of the awkward dissipates, enough for Suga to land a few jokes and for Kageyama to admit he needs to find something good to give his parents. It’s nicer like this, when Suga doesn’t need to feel aware of the rest of the group, even if they bump into some of them from time to time.

For all his worrying the time passes quickly, and as they reach the end of the road Suga feels confident enough to grip Kageyama’s arm and pull him into yet another store selling souvenirs. He’s reluctant to let go, Kageyama easily following him as they enter, testing his luck by squeezing just a little before he does. It earns him a quick look and reddening cheeks, inspiring yet another flutter in his stomach. Maybe he can actually do this, he thinks, nudging Kageyama shortly afterwards to show him a beautifully painted fan on a shelf. Heaven knows he’s gotten enough pointed advice from his friends already, and now that they’re alone it’s easier to pick up on the lingering stares and attempts at smiles that Kageyama sends his way.

He thumbs at a pair of chopsticks, contemplating their design for a bit and telling himself he isn’t stalling simply because this is the last store along the road, when he notices Kageyama staring at his phone screen with enough intent to frighten the few visitors surrounding them.

“What is it?” he asks, startled when Kageyama all but jumps backwards into one of the displays.

“N-nothing!” is the hurried reply, but then Kageyama takes a deep breath and seems to steady himself. “It was just… Hinata wrote that if we want to, he can, um, cover for us.”

Suga blinks up at him, taking note of the way his shoulders are hunched and face half turned away, fingers tight around the phone. Then it dawns on him, that Hinata means if they want to _sneak off alone_. It must be almost time to meet up again, Suga’s heart skipping on a beat as he considers a possible course of action. He’s still hesitant, still a little too nervous, but then Kageyama’s gaze flickers towards him and betrays a glimmer of hope that has his nerve endings on fire.

“That’s,” he starts, clearing his throat from breathlessness. “That’s nice of him.”

He can see Kageyama swallow, fiddling with his phone and then licking his lips, and it’s so innocent that Suga can’t help but reach out and place his hand over Kageyama’s exposed wrist.

“Tell him to let us know when they’ll be leaving for Tokyo tower,” he says, sounding surer than he feels.

Kageyama sucks in a breath, eyes wide and lips parting, and _oh_ , Suga wants to kiss him right here.

“I can show you the temple some other time,” he adds quietly, as if speaking too loud will break whatever moment there is between them now, a surge of electricity spreading from where their skin connects.

It’s easy to tell that Kageyama is just as nervous as him, in the way he attempts to look anywhere besides Suga but keeps straying back to his mouth. There’s a warm feeling blooming in Suga’s chest, spiking in temperature when he hesitates for just a moment before brushing his fingers against the back of Kageyama’s hand.

“We can have lunch?” he suggests, torn between finding Kageyama adorable as he fiddles with his phone and nods, and swallowing back a frustrated groan as he straightens up with _that_ look in his eyes.

It’s determination that’s glowing on his face, and Suga settles for sucking in a quick breath because Kageyama puts a hand on his shoulder and all but shoves him out of the shop. Unsure of what destination Kageyama has in mind –considering he’s only been to Tokyo for volleyball after all– Suga allows himself to be steered through the small crowd of tourists and some kids on a field trip. They end up heading towards where they came from, passing by the large entrance gates and continuing out between modern buildings and across streets.

Suga has half a mind to ask Kageyama where they’re going, but the other half of him enjoys being manhandled like this; Kageyama’s fingers digging into his shoulder as they hurry along their path. It’s a little colder now, the clouds heavier and darker than Suga had thought. Even so he feels much too warm, making fruitless attempts at hindering the reddening of his cheeks. It’s a good thing Kageyama isn’t looking at him, because he can’t tell what sort of expression he’s making at the moment.

“Aah, I think it’s going to rain,” he hears someone say as they keep moving, glancing back to see two women frowning at the sky.

As he tilts his head up to check the clouds again he can feel a small drop hit his cheek, reaching up absentmindedly to wipe it off.

“Kageyama,” he quietly utters, and the setter makes an abrupt halt in the middle of the street.

“Y-yes?”

He looks so nervous again that Suga has to laugh, slapping him lightly in the stomach.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” he asks, and Kageyama flushes bright red. “I think it might start raining soon.”

Barely a second later he feels another droplet, heavier this time and right in the middle of his scalp. It’s an uncomfortable sort of wet cold, a small shiver running down his spine.

“Then, where should we…” Kageyama trails off as more drops hit them, squints at the sky; his hand tightens momentarily around Suga’s shoulder before letting go. “I, um, I don’t know where we are.”

The admittance is so honest and straightforward that Suga feels laughter building up again, but he tugs at Kageyama’s sleeve and steers him towards an awning that stretches out above a shop window on a side street.

While the store seems open the window is littered with items on shelves to block the view from inside, and the street is mostly empty around them.

“I’ll check how bad it is,” Suga says and pulls out his phone, just as the light pitter patter of raindrops become a regular rhythm against the fabric above them.

“Okay,” Kageyama says, standing stiffly beside him as the rain increases and Suga sighs at his weather app.

“We might have to stand here for a while…”

He picks at his bag’s shoulder-strap, worrying his teeth as he wonders what sort of cruel joke this is. Whether he wants to try confessing or not, it seems he’s stuck here for an hour or so. Maybe if he confesses and then runs off, Kageyama won’t follow him if the rain becomes too heavy.

“Suga-san,” Kageyama starts, and looks so much like he’s working himself up to something that Suga almost panics.

“Yeah?” he replies breathily, pressing a fist against his chest where his heart now pounds furiously.

“I wanted to go somewhere we could be alone, but I guess this works.”

When Suga peers out at the street it seems deserted, a lone businessman struggling with a half-broken umbrella over by the street crossing. As Kageyama takes a minute to continue, Suga nervously counts the beat of raindrops until they’re indistinguishable from each other, a sheet of water separating them from the outside world. The cold air turns more chilling, sneaking up his sleeves and down his collar, eager to fight the heat of Suga’s imagination getting carried away.

“The rain doesn’t really suit the mood,” Kageyama mumbles, startling Suga.

“Eh?”

“I mean,” Kageyama continues to mumble, ducking his head and rubbing at his neck. “Yesterday would have been more ideal, but I at least wanted something more fitting than rain.”

Suga blinks at him, holding his breath. Kageyama has always been very honest, but it is something he mostly noticed in a volleyball setting. Now, trapped together underneath a small awning, breaths in light puffs against the cold air, Suga feels a little weak. Kageyama had seemed nervous, yes, but right now he is radiating more of that admirable confidence that Suga always felt so drawn to.

As for Suga himself, it’s all he can do not to avert his face as Kageyama searches for eye contact.

“I’ll be attending Tokai university soon!” Kageyama announces, straightening up with his fists clenched, voice much louder and more formal than needed. “Well, both Hinata and I got scholarships. And it’s very close to your university, Suga-san!”

“Ah, it is,” Suga agrees, a little taken aback at the force Kageyama directs at him.

On the inside however he is cheering at the top of his lungs, because this means he won’t have to travel across all of Tokyo in order to meet him.

“Suga-san, please let me see you again!” Before Suga can attempt an answer, Kageyama folds his body in a bow, shoulders tense as his voice rises again. “I would really like to see you again! Actually, I want to see you all the time! Please let me know if I can!”

For a second Suga feels frozen in time, then his entire body lifts from a sudden buzz that spreads from his toes up to his hair roots. It’s not a confession per se, but it’s something Suga has been waiting to hear for a long time. It lifts a weight from his chest, one he wasn’t entirely aware of carrying around.

Kageyama hasn’t forgotten about him, in fact, he’s just as earnest this time around as the first.

This time, Suga refuses to back down because of doubts.

“There’s no need to be so formal,” he starts, voice shaking only a little.

He pushes lightly at Kageyama’s shoulders, encouraging him to stand up again and taking a step closer when he does. It brings him right into Kageyama’s personal space, fingers sliding down to fondle his open collar.

“I want to see you, too.”

Raising his head he meets Kageyama’s dark eyes, throat dry and chest filled with bubbles as they search his face for anything besides a friendly meaning.

“Good,” Kageyama breathes, and Suga can sense his hands hovering by his hips. “That’s really… good.”

“Yes,” Suga agrees helplessly, nerves rushing up and down his spine. “And I think I told you to call me Suga.”

Kageyama flushes, a pretty pink on his cheeks, deepening in color when Suga braves another step closer. They’re so close now that he can feel Kageyama’s breath hot against his face, fingers tightening their grip on the coat’s lapels.

“Suga,” Kageyama repeats in a whisper, his breathing picking up speed when Suga drags his hands higher to brush along his jawline.

When Kageyama leans in, Suga’s heart stutters and he does the first thing that comes to mind; he pulls Kageyama’s winter hat down over his eyes. It’s so unexpected that Kageyama freezes, lips parted in surprise, but Suga curses to himself and grabs Kageyama’s head in his hands.

Nerves be damned, Suga wants to kiss him so badly and does just that, pulls him in until their lips touch softly. He wants to think it’s electrifying, but mostly he’s suffering from a million panicked thoughts during the seconds it takes Kageyama to catch up.

Once he does, Suga is the one being kissed fervently, strong hands holding his hips tight until he’s pressed against Kageyama’s body, a small gasp spilling over his lips before they’re captured again.

It’s warm. It’s warm and his neck is straining to keep the angle needed, and Suga wonders if he notices these things in order to stay calm because _Kageyama is kissing him_.

Kageyama’s lips are soft but eager, opening and closing slowly to drag fiery pleasure along Suga’s. He can hear his heart pounding, the rain beating against the ground, and Kageyama’s heavy breaths between kisses. Every second they lose contact is a second wasted, and soon Suga struggles to wrap his arms around Kageyama’s neck so he can keep him in place. He wants to be closer, wants Kageyama to devour him until he’s a boneless mess.

He doesn’t notice how heavily he’s been leaning into Kageyama until they bump into the store window, Kageyama’s arms moving to embrace his lower back until they’re more flush against each other than Suga dared to imagine in his daydreams. Secured between long legs, Suga tilts his head further to one side and sighs pleasure into Kageyama’s mouth. A shudder runs through them both, and when Suga’s eyes flutter open he’s reminded of the fact that Kageyama’s hat is still covering half his face.

“Oh my god,” he chokes out, reaching up to push it off, wide-eyed with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Kageyama mumbles, squirming a little to hide his blush. “I just… didn’t want to let go.”

Suga’s forehead falls forwards until it connects with Kageyama’s chest, and he screams internally. He doesn’t think he can ever face the world again, because Kageyama is too pure and Suga can’t handle his feelings right now. So he stays there, in Kageyama’s embrace, listening to his quick breaths and the rain pouring around them. He might have read more romance stories than is probably good, but he has never before related to the feeling of wanting to stay in one position forever.

But now.

This.

Every part of his body burning, his chest filled with a pressuring ache that is borderline unpleasant. Arms secured around him, his lips still tingly and wet. He wonders if it’s normal to feel like slapping yourself just to check if you’re still in reality, because his fingers twitch with the urge.

“Suga,” Kageyama says again, and he draws in a shaky inhale that doesn’t quite reach his lungs.

“Yeah?”

But Kageyama stays silent, and when Suga dares to look up at him, he finds the trademark scowl and teeth gnawing in frustration on lips. Whatever Kageyama wants to say must be difficult; the thought causes Suga’s heart to skip a beat as he brushes a few strands of hair from Kageyama’s face and forces out a small smile.

“Is it about two years ago?” he asks quietly, voice coming out fainter than he intended.

Kageyama nods once, staring at Suga and opens his mouth but then closes it again, averting his eyes in irritation.

“I don’t know how to say it,” he admits, a sullen look on his face.

“Well,” Suga tries, clearing his throat from the lump forming in it. “We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

“But we kissed,” Kageyama immediately counters with, frowning down at Suga.

When he doesn’t receive a verbal response he tightens his grip around Suga’s hips, nudging his cheek with his nose. Suga ducks his head into the crook of Kageyama’s neck, taking several steadying breaths to pretend he isn’t nervous about this conversation. He has prepared for this, has conjured up a hundred different scenarios, in all of them knowing precisely what to say.

He doesn’t know. If it were up to him they would simply kiss again, using their bodies to speak rather than words.

“I like you,” Kageyama grunts into his hair, defensively as if Suga might argue. “I really, really like you.”

Technically, Suga _should_ argue with that. They have only met a handful of times after Suga graduated, and those were all during Kageyama’s second year, and only at volleyball matches. They’ve both changed, surely, and sparse texting can’t make up for the time spent apart.

And yet.

While the reaction may be slow, the emotions boiling Suga from the inside out defies logic as soon as his body catches up with his brain.

Kageyama likes him.

Two years later, Kageyama _still_ likes him, still wants to give it a try because he didn’t forget, _couldn’t_ forget. Suga knows he should say something, but he seems to have lost his voice and strength, clinging to Kageyama pathetically as the world spins underneath his feet.

“I know you said I should ask you when I was older and I don’t know if this is old enough but-“

“It is,” Suga interrupts him, all but crushing Kageyama’s soft hat in his hand. “It is and the answer is yes.”

He feels Kageyama stiffen against him, then he’s pushed back by the shoulders to stand face to face with Kageyama’s complete and utter shock. It would be funny if Suga wasn’t such a tight bundle of nerves right now, teetering on the edge of something unknown.

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” he blurts out, biting at his lip and sliding his arms from around Kageyama’s neck, instead handing his hat back sheepishly. “I just didn’t know what else to say…”

“But you didn’t say no, back then.” Kageyama’s expression is earnest as he grabs a hold of Suga’s biceps, ignoring the hat for now. “Does that mean you wanted to say yes?”

Suga’s face is burning, he’s sure, and he lets out a frustrated gurgle before letting his forehead fall against Kageyama’s chest again. There’s a very warm, very fuzzy feeling inside his chest that makes talking impossible. So he nods, forehead dragging uncomfortably back and forth over Kageyama’s jacket, swallowing hard when he hears a sharp intake of breath at his silent admittance.

“Oh,” Kageyama says, and doesn’t continue.

It’s hard to tell how long they stand there, Suga fiddling with Kageyama’s hat and attempting to find some semblance of control. He wonders what Kageyama is thinking of, if he’s aware of the tight grip he has on Suga’s arms, if he’s thinking of moments lost just like Suga is.

The rain doesn’t let up, water is streaming down the street and Suga could see something poetic in it if he tried, but he’s much too occupied with marveling over Kageyama’s confession, and the fact that they _kissed_.

The fact that he missed out on _two years’_ worth of kisses, even though realistically they wouldn’t have been able to meet up that often anyway. But he’d wanted to, had wanted to see Kageyama so badly it physically _hurt_ to watch his games on his computer.

Though it seemed his want hadn’t been stronger than his hesitation, and he hated himself a little for it.

“It was probably for the best,” Kageyama assures him suddenly, and it takes Suga several moments before the words register in his brain.

“Huh?” he asks, raising his head while Kageyama huffs.

“Like you said, we can talk about it later. I’d rather keep kissing.”

Blinking at the bluntness of Kageyama’s words, Suga takes in the embarrassed pout he sports, accentuated by messed-up hair. It’s adorable, really, and something inside him eases up to let him breathe evenly again.

“So bold, Kageyama,” he teases, placing the hat back on top of Kageyama’s head and fixing the hair that sticks out until it’s all neat. “Is that the proper way to talk to your senpai?”

Before he has time to lower his hands, however, Kageyama’s shoot up to wrap around his wrists and keep him in place.

“I don’t want you to be my senpai,” Kageyama mumbles, sending Suga’s heart into overdrive. “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

It’s official. Suga has died and left the mortal world, only the outer shell of his body remaining grounded to earth in Kageyama’s hold. He vaguely wonders if this is what an out-of-body experience feels like, because he’s all _numb_ and _floating_ , the hammer of his heart the only physical sensation he seems capable of experiencing.

“This is _unfair_ ,” Suga wheezes, scrunching up his face. “Who allowed you to grow up and sweep me off my feet, huh?”

The final nail in the coffin is Kageyama’s puzzled frown, as if he only told the truth and nothing else, certainly not in an attempt to sweep anyone off their feet. But there’s a smile tugging at his lips and his body imitates molten chocolate, warm and thick and slow in its movements as he takes a small step closer.

He can only hope he tastes as good when he leans up, leans into Kageyama’s body like he belongs there, an obvious hitch to his breath from the soft brush of lips.

“I thought you wanted me to grow up,” Kageyama says in slight confusion, and Suga can only release helpless laughter because the tomorrow he’d always thought of, the tomorrow when he could see Kageyama again…

That tomorrow is _today_ , Kageyama firm and warm against him as he loops his arms around his neck and pulls him closer, standing underneath a shabby dark green awning in the January rain that have now become his favorite place and season.

“Kiss me again,” he demands breathlessly, still laughing quietly as Kageyama is only oh so eager to fulfill his request.

If he allows his mind to wander into an unseen future, he can imagine spending all of his today’s and tomorrow’s, and yesterday’s too, in Kageyama’s company. But he reels himself in, planting his feet in the present, in the heat of Kageyama’s mouth and tongue meeting his own, in the trembling fingertips combing through his hair and the small noises shared between them.

For now, today will have to be enough, and tomorrow will come sooner or later.

He intends to make the most of it.

★☆★☆

Kageyama anxiously shoves his parents out the door, groaning as his mother insists on one last hug and kiss goodbye before making the drive back home to Miyagi without him. It’s a relief when he can finally enter his room again, _alone_ , though he shares the apartment with three other people including Hinata.

A quick glance at his phone tells him he still has ten minutes before Suga will arrive, and his shoulders sag with relief only to tense when he takes note of the absolute mess that surrounds him. Even the bed is covered in piles of stuff, and he can’t believe it all fit in the boxes and bags they had squeezed into their small car.

_Maybe I can stay the night at Suga’s_ , he thinks wistfully, jumping high into the air when the door handle rattles behind him.

“Kageyama?” a familiar voice calls out, and as if on cue his palms break out in a sweat.

Suga is _early_ , too early for him to have properly prepared for their first meeting since the day after he won Nationals. Coincidentally, the very same day that Suga had agreed to be his _boyfriend_ , the thought enough to make him space out for so long that the man in question resorts to knocking loudly.

“Shit,” he heaves out, not sure if it’s because he forgot to let him in, because he’s early, or simply the fact that it’s _Suga_.

He fumbles with the lock before shoving the door open, just barely avoiding a critical hit to Suga’s face. Suga’s face that is _smiling_ , a smile that turns teasing when Kageyama can only manage a dumb stare in greeting.

“See something you like?” Suga asks, tone lilting as he lets himself into Kageyama’s room that is honestly more of a storage space than anything else at the moment.

“You’re early,” he marvels, quickly snapping his mouth shut and willing (but failing) to stop the blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Mm, sorry,” Suga apologizes, but doesn’t look sorry at all. “I saw your parents on the way in.”

“You didn’t _talk_ to them, did you?” Kageyama is horrified at the notion but relaxes when Suga shakes his head with another sweet smile.

“Don’t worry,” Suga assures him, reaching out to take his hands, interlacing their fingers and Kageyama thinks they fit so perfectly together. “I did talk to Hinata though, he let me into the apartment.”

Kageyama nods, because he should have known it was inevitable that Hinata got to Suga before he could deny whatever stupid crap his volleyball partner thought fitting to share.

“Need help settling in?” Suga asks, still smiling, but Kageyama ignores the question in favor of ducking his head down to capture that smile for himself. “No help, then,” he concludes after a while, though he looks happy all the same as Kageyama straightens up with tingling lips.

“I can unpack later,” he shrugs, body humming with the pleasure of _finally_ being close to Suga again. “It’s not like the stuff’s going anywhere.”

“Oh? Does that mean _we_ are?”

Kageyama thinks he wouldn’t mind going to bed, but his bed is still covered in stuff just like five minutes ago, and he figures it can wait.

“Maybe…” he mumbles, swinging their hands between them. “Maybe we could play some volleyball?”

Suga laughs, then, but it’s bright in its surprise.

“I knew it,” Suga says through the laughter, standing on his tiptoes to peck his lips. “Good thing I brought my gear.”

Only now does Kageyama notice the sports bag hanging from Suga’s shoulder, and he can feel excitement filling him up at the thought of playing volleyball with Suga again. It’s been way too long, even if they didn’t practice all that much together at Karasuno since they played the same position.

“Perfect,” he grins, and because Suga really is perfect he cups his cheeks and kisses him again, just because he can. “Team practice isn’t until the day after tomorrow.”

He pauses, contemplating this fact for a moment as he keeps Suga’s face in his hands.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks, holding his breath and wiggling his toes anxiously when Suga hums in thought.

“Depends,” Suga answers, dragging the word out. “Does it involve more kissing?”

“Anything you want,” he promises fiercely, pulling Suga close to breathe in his scent.

He smells like vanilla and something else, something rich that has Kageyama weak at the knees and he wishes he was bold enough to slip his hands underneath Suga’s shirt.

“Then we should definitely set things up in your room,” Suga decides, poking him in the ribs when he makes a noise of complaint. “Better now than after volleyball starts. You’ll be too tired.”

“I won’t,” he disagrees, nose still buried in Suga’s fluffy hair, even if he supposes it’s okay to clean up as long as Suga spends time with him.

It’s just so nice to hear Suga’s voice next to him rather than over the phone, to be able to smell him and touch him and it’s probably a little stupid but he feels like he can stand like this the whole day. There’s a rush of butterflies in his stomach when Suga hooks fingers through the hoops on his jeans and tug a few times, tilting his head back to raise an eyebrow at him.

Since Kageyama still cups his face, he does the first thing he can think of. Or maybe it’s that he doesn’t think _at all_ , because he squishes Suga’s cheeks between his palms until his mouth forms a ridiculous pout.

“Um,” he stammers out, then flips his head to the side so Suga won’t catch him laughing at the sight.

Suga pinches the skin over his hip, and Kageyama lets his cheeks go, still shaking with silent laughter.

“Very funny,” Suga huffs, then puts his hands on Kageyama’s chest and pushes him backwards, causing him to stumble for a few steps until he falls onto the bed, barely catching himself. “I came here to be kissed, not to be mocked.”

While Kageyama’s poor brain tries not to short-circuit because _Suga came here to be kissed oh god what do I do_ , his body is frozen in shock because he’s half on the bed, half on the floor, and Suga is _climbing onto his lap_.

“I hope you intend to make up for it,” Suga tells him in a voice dripping with honey, and Kageyama is so _aroused_ that all he can do is part his lips in expectation.

There are hands running up his chest, warm thighs supporting Suga’s weight on top of him, and Kageyama is living the _dream_ as hazel eyes fill his vision and hot air washes over his mouth…

That is, until the door flies open with a bang.

“What’s taking you so long?!” Hinata yells at them, shaking a volleyball in their direction and painfully oblivious to the scene in front of him as he jumps up and down. “Kenma just told me that the Grand King and Japan is over by the outdoor courts, we have to hurry before they leave!”

For once in his life, Kageyama can’t find it in him to care if he misses an opportunity to play a match against Oikawa and Ushijima. Glancing up at Suga, he’s treated to a rare flash of irritation before his pretty face morphs into a pleasant smile.

“That’s nice, Hinata,” he says, but there’s a dangerous tone underlying his words that finally makes Hinata realize a thing or two. “We’ll be out in a minute.”

“Oh,” Hinata replies, deflating a bit and sending them a sheepish smile. “I’ll just, um, wait out here.”

He turns to leave, closing the door after him but then throws it open again, pointing dramatically at them with the volleyball.

“But if you take longer than five minutes I’m leaving without you!”

“You don’t even know the way,” Kageyama growls, but Hinata has already slammed the door shut. “I guess we should go,” he sighs, but Suga makes no move to get up.

“I said a minute, didn’t I?” he reminds him, something mischievous glittering in his eyes and it has Kageyama breaking out in a sweat again.

“You did,” he agrees breathlessly, eyes wide and chest burning when Suga leans down, his hands on either side of Kageyama’s face.

There’s something sharp digging into his back from the pile of unidentified mess underneath him as he supports more of Suga’s weight, breath whooshing out of his lungs at the teasing nip to his lower lip. Eager for more he places his hands on Suga’s neck, gently pushing him down until their mouths connect. It’s chaste and slow at first, Kageyama twirling the fine hairs on Suga’s neck between his fingertips. He shifts, draws in a breath between kisses, content to keep it like this but then Suga slides further down his thighs until their hips slot together and his skin bursts into flame.

“ _Kageyama_ ,” Suga whispers against the corner of his mouth, pressing a kiss there before leaving several more along the curve of his jaw.

His heart pounds in his chest, body arching up to feel more of Suga against him. He wonders if it’s possible to faint from kissing because when Suga’s mouth latches onto his neck he _swears_ he can see stars. Someone lets out a whimper and he doesn’t want to admit it’s him even though Suga’s tongue rubbing experimentally over his pulse point has his jeans uncomfortably tight.

“Suga,” he sighs in pleasure, about to turn his head and seek out Suga’s lips for his own when three loud knocks rattle the door.

“It’s been three minutes,” Hinata sing-songs through the wood and Kageyama grits his teeth.

“Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to attend the same university as him,” he complains, Suga’s forehead dropping to his shoulder.

“Probably because you make a great team?” Suga suggests, resting against Kageyama for a moment longer before pushing himself up. “I did promise we’d join him though.”

“He’s so annoying,” he grumbles, cold when Suga stands up.

“He’s your best friend,” Suga teases, reaching a hand out to help Kageyama up. “Come on, we can continue later.”

Kageyama takes the hand, flushing a bit at the thought of spending uninterrupted time with Suga. So many possibilities… Once he’s up, Suga pulls him close enough to press a light kiss to his cheek, and Kageyama has half a mind to fall back on the bed and pull Suga with him.

After locking the door, of course.

“Volleyball’s waiting,” Suga reminds him cheerfully, seeming to have forgotten it was _his_ idea to stay another minute.

“Fine,” he says, moving to gather up his things and pretending he doesn’t need to awkwardly adjust his pants.

Surprisingly – or not – even an impromptu serving contest against Oikawa can’t take his mind completely off Suga, not when he laughs and smiles and taunts their opponents under his breath.

It’s not like he minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Hinata so much haha. I think I've really fallen in love with kagesuga tho, such a precious pairing! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!!

**Author's Note:**

> So, tomorrow is going to bring lots of nice things for Suga I'm sure... :3 Maybe I'll change the rating when posting the second chapter depending on what I end up writing hehe~


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